


Get Off

by antheia



Category: Pacific Rim
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antheia/pseuds/antheia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beta by my partner in madness, Deadfashionista.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Off

Just because adrenaline left Newt shaking didn’t mean he didn’t love it. Which went a long way to explaining why he was so okay with his situation right now: backed up against a desk in his workspace, the corner digging into his thigh as a large ginger jaeger pilot loomed over him.

“Is this what you were hoping for?” Chuck snarls, his face only a few centimetres from Newt’s.

“Kinda, but not really. I mean, I was sort of hoping I wouldn’t have a desk stabbing me in the ass, but the rest of it is-”

“Shut up,” Chuck closes the gap, pressing his lips against Newt’s then biting Newt’s lower lip.

Before he knows what’s happening, Chuck’s pulled him flush against his body and moved him against the wall.

Newt drops his head back against the cool metal of the wall as Chuck's mouth works down his throat. Chuck slips off Newt's tie and begins popping buttons open on his shirt, tonguing his way down the exposed flesh. Newt's always surprised by how deft Chuck's hands are, given how bulky he can seem. And by his dedication to avoiding any part of the kaiju tattoos on Newt’s skin; it’s becoming more and more of a challenge, as Newt’s torso piece has grown.

Chuck glances up and Newt meets his eyes for a moment, nodding encouragement before dropping his head back against the wall. Chuck slides down, kneeling on the concrete floor, and tugs Newt's jeans and boxers down in a single motion.

Newt's eyes close and he gasps when the soft, wet heat of Chuck's mouth engulfs his cock. Without thinking, he slides a hand into Chuck's hair and groans.

"Fuuuck," he breathes. Chuck answers with a grunt of approval that vibrates through every inch of Newt's body.

Chuck works Newt's dick with practiced skill, sucking, licking and stroking in all the ways he's learned Newt likes. Before long, Newt's breath is ragged and he's pleading for release.

"Fuuuck, yes. Please, oh god. Please fucking make me come." He looks down and is undone by the sight of Chuck, kneeling in front of him on the cold concrete, sucking Newt's cock like it's the best thing in the world.

Newt's fingers clench, yanking on a handful of hair, and his whole body shakes as he comes. Every ounce of tension in his body is gone, and he feels like he could melt into the wall.

Chuck stands up, leaning over him with a wolfish grin and covers Newt’s mouth with his own. Newt can feel the desperation in the kiss. Chuck pulls Newt against him, and Newt smiles, feeling Chuck's erection pressing against his abdomen.

"That's funny to you, little man?"

"No! Well, a little, maybe. But mostly not. Here, come here," Newt yanks his pants up and tugs Chuck over to his chair. Chuck raises an eyebrow at him.

"We have this conversation every time. You're, like, eighty feet tall. Cut me some slack, okay? Unless you don't want me to do anything about that, uh, problem you've got there."

Chuck doesn't say anything, but he drops heavily into the chair.

"Hey! I have to sit there! Be careful!"

Chuck eyes him, and Newt decides to let it go. He wedges himself between Chuck's thighs and leans forward, popping open the button on Chuck's trousers and tugs at the zipper. Chuck inhales sharply above him as he traces the outline of Chuck's cock through the layers of cotton.

Newt slips his fingers into the folds of fabric and pulls Chuck's dick free. He brings his mouth within a millimetre of it and stops, looking up at Chuck, who's flushed and watching him intently. He feels the muscles in Chuck's thighs twitching under his hands.

“You bastard,” Chuck says through gritted teeth.

Something about Chuck always seems to be bring out Newt's evil side -- he really wants to see how long can he draw it out before Chuck is yanking his hair and grunting for him to fercrissakes finish him off, already. But there's no telling how long they'll have the room to themselves.

Newt’s whole world narrows to Chuck, splayed out in his desk chair. He can feel thick fingers slipping through his hair, wrapping around the curve of his skull; muscles tensing and releasing against his sides; Chuck’s breath growing more labored and erratic. He closes his eyes and begins to suck in earnest. It’s not long before he can hear mutters of “fuck, yeah,” and “oh god,” above him. Soon, too soon, Chuck inhales sharply and stills, fingers digging into Newt’s scalp, and then he’s shaking, coming in Newt’s mouth.

He pulls himself together, and then looks up at Chuck, “We have to try this somewhere with cushioning, and maybe more than twenty minutes.”

Chuck laughs, “Y’reckon?”


End file.
